The recent imprisonment of Russell Brand for rape and sexual assault, alongside ongoing allegations of misconduct against comedian David Walliams, has sparked a intense public reckoning regarding the entertainment landscape of the 2000s. Critics and observers are now scrutinizing not only the individuals involved but the broader culture that facilitated such behavior, often by normalizing male transgression under the guise of entertainment. Or did they stand alongside the ubiquity of topless models on Page 3 of tabloid newspapers and so-called “lads’ mags”, which mixed lifestyle and often tasteless humour with overtly sexual images as a backdrop to something darker, were they merely knockabout fun. Did the atmosphere of the time make more serious misconduct easier to overlook. We’re not rapists,” Fielding said. “What if, horror of horrors, he ain’t even done a rape. “Even at the smallest end of this spectrum, the culture was designed to tokenise and sexualise women,” Long said.
A 2008 episode of the BBC’s Never Mind the Buzzcocks has become a focal point of this reassessment. During the show, host Simon Amstell remarked to the choreographer Arlene Phillips, the program’s sole female panelist, that she looked like she ran a “good whore house.” Phillips responded by sharing a story about talent scouts seeking dancers with “very special abilities” who would party after filming. Dermot O’Leary, also on the panel, mimed a phone call to ask if they would “mind having sex afterwards.” While these moments were framed as comedy at the time, they are now being cited as symptomatic of an era that allowed men in power to act with impunity. Perhaps Phillips’s anecdote should be understood in that light.
Sophie Gilbert, author of Girl on Girl: How Pop Culture Turned a Generation of Women Against Themselves, argues that the period was “profoundly, openly, cheerfully horrible to women.” She points to the rise of post-feminism, which saw female celebrities subjected to invasive treatment. Gilbert highlights moments such as Victoria Beckham being weighed on television shortly after childbirth and the spectacle of Geri Halliwell and Kylie Minogue kissing on TFI Friday, which was treated as a surprise for the host, Chris Evans. Or symptomatic of a wider culture in which women’s bodies and sexuality were routinely used as entertainment, were they simply jokes. Young female celebrities were relentlessly pursued by paparazzi, subjected to scrutiny over their weight and photographed in compromising situations, throughout the late 90s and 00s. “This was the nature of his appeal,” Gilbert said. “If TV and radio bosses didn’t want to call him out for his behaviour, it was because they knew his transgressions were what made him popular.”. His representatives have been contacted for comment for this article. “He would bite my face and I would tell him I didn’t like it and he would chase me around,” she recalled this week. “I would giggle because I was 22 and it was overwhelming.
Young stars faced relentless scrutiny from the paparazzi and media. In 2004, Heat magazine published a special feature dedicated to celebrity cellulite, circling patches of skin on stars including Beyoncé and Martine McCutcheon. Singer Charlotte Church, then only 15, was targeted by a website that ran a countdown to her 16th birthday to track when she would reach the age of consent—a story that was covered by the Sun. Reflecting on the era, Church described being turned into a “caricature” that was “sexualised, patronised, ridiculed.” Upskirt pictures were published in magazines. Then 28, spoke on air about wanting to take Church’s virginity when she turned 16, the Radio 1 presenter Chris Moyles. Including Harry Potter star Emma Watson, similar countdowns targeted other young celebrities. In 2004, the highly successful celebrity magazine Heat devoted an entire special to celebrity cellulite, circling supposedly offending patches of skin on the legs of women including Beyoncé and former EastEnders star Mar. In 2008, the journalist Mary O’Hara described how comic Johnny Vegas had brought a young woman on stage at a London gig, where he groped her and repeatedly pulled up her skirt as she tried to cover herself. “Most disturb.
Britney Spears faced similarly dehumanizing treatment. In her memoir, The Woman in Me, she recalled being asked by reporters whether her breasts were real or if her hymen remained intact. Ben Widdicombe, a former gossip columnist, admitted that the post-9/11 atmosphere fueled a demand for such “frivolous” and cruel coverage, noting that he feared they were hounding the singer to death. He acknowledged, however, that the industry relied on an audience that participated in and enabled this cycle. A former New York gossip columnist who examined the era in his memoir, Gatecrasher, recalled how the aftermath of 9/11 created an appetite for frivolous celebrity coverage; a phenomenon felt far beyond the US. “I saw an insatiable hunger for light, ‘sexy’ stories, ben Widdicombe. However, the cruel logic of the tabloids is that they build you up only to knock you down,” he said. But, he said, audiences shared responsibility: “There’s no media without an audience – the public was baying for Britney to be humiliated, and the tabloids obliged.”. During live performances of the TV sketch show Little Britain, Walliams played Des Kaye, a former children’s entertainer and sex offender who pulled down audience members’ trousers on stage and attempted to kiss them.
In the comedy sector, the lines between provocation and intimidation were often blurred.
David Walliams, who has denied the allegations against him despite becoming the subject of a Met police investigation, was the focus of a 2004 joke by Jonathan Ross.
Ross described the 15-year-old British Comedy Awards as “drunk, unpredictable and probably going home with David Walliams.” In another instance, from a 2007 episode of The Big Fat Quiz of the Year, Ross suggested moving Lily Allen away from Brand and Noel Fielding so she might “go home with her dress still on. Allen later admitted that while she laughed at the time, the footage appeared “horrendous” in retrospect. In 2007, a 21-year-old Lily Allen appeared on Channel 4’s The Big Fat Quiz of the Year; again the only woman on the panel. According to but rewatching the footage years later made her uncomfortable, she, In 2023. “In retrospect, that’s really horrendous.
Critics emphasize that these trends did not go unnoticed at the time, but dissent was frequently stifled. Comedian Jo Caulfield noted that such behavior was “only acceptable to the men who were being loud and dominating TV.” She added that the industry has historically worked to protect its stars. Academic Anna Tippett noted that the narrative of it being “a different time” ignores the women who were actively pushing back against the misogyny of the day. In a 2012 survey, Tippett found that 57.8% of respondents classified lads’ magazines as “soft pornography”, despite their mainstream acceptance. “Women who objected risked being labelled prudish, humourless or outdated,” she said. “There was considerable pressure either to appear ‘in on the joke’ or to remain silent.
Tara Joshi, co-host of the podcast Twenty Twenty, warns against viewing this as a closed chapter. She notes that while public conversations around abuse have evolved, structural issues remain. Brand, for instance, continued to work in major productions into the 2020s. As industry expert Seale points out, celebrities often feel “untouchable” due to their financial clout, making it difficult for those in their orbit to call out abuse when their own livelihoods depend on the star’s reputation.
